


All The Right Wrongs

by dragonlands



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Draco, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Kinda, Light Bondage, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Deathly Hallows, Top Harry, also kinda - Freeform, if we ignore the epilogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 06:59:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8788123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonlands/pseuds/dragonlands
Summary: "Surprisingly many couples in the Great Hall were kissing," Draco whispered, lips close to Potter's face. "You'd think people wanted to sleep their pain away, but apparently they just want to have sex."Draco wasn't sure if at that point he was even surprised that Potter didn't look disgusted but intoxicated. Potter leaned close to his ear, and his breath tickled Draco's ear, sending shivers down his spine.Everything about Potter was so warm. "It's just simple muggle biology, Malfoy," he whispered, and Draco leaned his head back, baring his neck, submitting. "People want to fuck after winning a war."Picks up where Deathly Hallows ended if we ignore the epilogue. Everyone else is drunk on their victory over Voldemort, and Draco and Harry cross paths when they're wandering around Hogwarts.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I just finished rereading Deatly Hallows so i kind of had to write this. It's my first work in the HP & Drarry fandom, and I hope you'll enjoy it. The title is from Zayn's song Befour, I was listening to his album on replay while I wrote this.
> 
> Also huge thanks to my beta Mason, you can find him on Twitter @cozylupin. All mistakes are mine though.

Draco had never seen his father cry before.

Lucius and Narcissa had found him just before Potter appeared from under his cloak to challenge Voldemort. The three of them had tried to quietly press into the wall, hoping that no one would notice them. They'd held tight onto each other, and it was the first time Draco remembered hugging Lucius since he had been three.

When Voldemort's body hit the ground, none of them knew how to feel. Draco had been on the verge of tears since he'd seen the half-giant carry Potter's dead body to the castle, and when he realized that finally, after three years, it was actually _over_ , he couldn't hold the tears back anymore. This time his parents didn't tell him he was being weak or childish, they started crying too and Narcissa kept whispering, _"I lied to the Dark Lord for him, I lied to the Dark Lord for him,"_ and they all knew what she meant. Had Potter lost, Voldemort would've killed her, and probably Draco and Lucius for good measure too. It had been a long time since they had meant anything to Him.

They stayed in place when everybody started screaming in a manic joy of survival and huddled around Potter. Potter looked dead. He had dark circles under his eyes and it seemed like he hadn't eaten in months. He soon left with Granger and Weasley, giving Draco a thoughtful look before disappearing under his cloak. He was the only one who had paid any attention to their little family, and Draco hoped he hadn't seen him crying.

Granger and Weasley came back without Potter, they ate and disappeared again. Draco doubted they'd gone to find Potter since they'd been getting quite hands-on with each other. They seemed almost desperate as if they thought they could simply suck the memory of war out of each other.

After everyone had eaten, Flitwick charmed - that's what it sounded like - the walls of Hogwarts to play music. At that point, Narcissa got up and offered her hands to her husband and son.

"I think we better leave before they remember which side we fought on," she said quietly. Lucius took her hand, but Draco shook his head.

"I'll follow you a little later," he said.

"You don't have a wand, you can't apparate," Narcissa said. The three of them only had one, Dolohov's, which they had picked up from the floor after he died. Draco thought about wands, and how his was the one that had killed the Dark Lord. How he had played such a huge role in His defeat by disarming Dumbledore, at least according to Potter. He doubted anyone would remember his role when witches and wizards told the story to their grandchildren, but it made him feel a jolt of pride, only slightly mixed with shame which emerged from all the years he'd been taught the greatness of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

"I'll find a floo or something," he said, almost pleading. "I can't leave the castle just yet." He didn't say what they all knew - that this could've been their last free day before they were all locked up in Azkaban for the rest of their lives, that this could be his last chance to see the castle where he'd grown and experienced so much. Narcissa sighed and gave him a tight hug and a kiss on both cheeks, and even Lucius patted his back, almost like a hug. He had already wiped the tears from his eyes and Draco was quite sure he would be back to his normal self by tomorrow.

He watched that his parents left safely, and then turned towards the other doors that lead to the stairs. He passed the Weasley girl whose eyes were red and who was hugging the Lovegood girl a bit too intimately considering she was supposed to be the Savior's happily ever after.

The music didn't get quieter as he walked away from the Great Hall, and the joyous music created horrendously surreal contrast with the bloodstained and grumbled staircases. He wasn't sure where he was heading, he had a distant idea of going to see the room of requirement once more, to see if it was actually ruined. He couldn't stop at any floor, even though he had no aim. He needed to keep climbing up as if he was metaphorically running away from something.

He kept quickening his pace until he was actually running. His heart was racing in his chest as if it wanted to break free. He felt helpless, he knew he could never be free again - even in the best scenario where he wouldn't be put into Azkaban the mistake he did when he was sixteen would follow him for the rest of his life. He knew his family wouldn't be able to blame the imperius curse again, knew it could be impossible for him to find work or to live a normal life. The arm with the Dark Mark had been getting heavier day by day, he'd never been able to carry it with the same pride like the other death eaters, but lately, he'd wanted to throw up every time he caught a glimpse of a black skull when he was getting dressed.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice there was a person in his way, and so he crashed into the other wizard almost making them both fall to the ground. They grabbed each other for stability.

Draco lifted his frightened eyes to the other's face and was met with a pair of shockingly familiar green eyes, puffy as if he'd just woken up.

"Malfoy," Potter said, still holding onto Draco's biceps. Potter smelled of blood, dirt, and the forbidden forest, but there was a hint of the musky smell that Draco usually thought as his smell. It was the smell that filled his senses when they were fist fighting, racing for the snich side by side. The last time when Draco had smelled it they'd been on a broom together a few hours ago, and he could still smell a hint of the fiendfyre on both of them. Draco's first instinct was to fight, push him away, say something offensive. But he had no energy left, and neither had Potter considering his appearance. "Where are you running?" Potter demanded, clearly aiming for his alpha voice, but stopped when he noticed the look in Draco's red eyes.

"They're having your party downstairs," Draco said weakly. "Shouldn't the Savior be in the center of it instead of hiding in the Gryffindor common room?"

"I was sleeping but this terrible music woke me up," Potter said, and Draco wondered if he should step away already, be the first one to break the moment. He couldn’t. "What time's it?"

Draco glanced at his hand on Potter's shoulder where his robe had ridden up and revealed a glimpse of his wrist and his golden clock. "Nine thirty."

Draco forced himself to take a step back, and his back immediately hit the cold stone wall. They'd apparently spun when they'd crashed into each other, and now he was trapped between Potter and the wall. He felt a mix of anger, fear, and lust, but there was something else too. He was finally starting to feel alive again.

"Where's my wand?" he asked. His heart should've already started to calm down from the physical strain, but it was still beating in his chest like a drum.

"It's in my pocket with my own wand." It almost seemed like there was a mischievous glint in his eye, but it died before Draco could be sure. Draco knew Potter took horrendous care of his wand, had it sticking out of his pocket like some worthless piece of wood and the idea of his wand being treated the same terrified him. It was a miracle Potter hadn't lost his yet.

"Couldn't use yours to defeat the Dark Lord?" he asked, without anything better to say, wanting the conversation to continue. He wished it was any other day, that he could just start throwing insults to get a reaction, but in the current situation he just couldn't. He hoped the endless playlist of overly energetic songs would finish and people would realize that what they needed was _sleep_.

"Wasn't working back then," Potter said. "It's all fixed now. Why did you come back?"

"What do you mean?" Draco asked, even though he knew exactly what he meant. Potter had taken tiny steps forward, and Draco could feel his magic warm and tickle his skin even from the distance. He'd never been sure how aware Potter was of his own bursting and bubbling magic that felt like flirtation to anyone standing near him. Draco's stomach clenched.

"Crabbe and Goyle wanted to give me to Voldemort," Potter said slowly, and Draco tried not to flinch at the mention of the name. Potter's eyes swept over Draco as if he was checking him out. "You shouted at Crabbe for trying to use crucio on me and never lifted a finger against me. You know, if you hadn't been there something much worse could've happened to me."

Potter was right - Draco had come along only to keep an eye on Crabbe and Goyle, without him they would've probably killed Potter or one of his friends. It had been a long time since he had wanted his own side to win. Still, it felt impossible to open his mouth and tell Potter he'd been protecting him, even when it seemed like Potter already knew. In Potter's perspective, it was probably closest to heroic that someone like Draco Malfoy could get, but Draco felt embarrassed. As if it wasn't about the war - good and bad - Potter versus Voldemort - but about him saving the boy he was supposed to hate. He was afraid Potter would realize his secret - that he'd never wanted him to die, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he was the only one who could free the wizarding world of Voldemort.

"You didn't give me up at the Manor either," Potter continued, still getting closer. Draco swallowed. He felt like a caged animal, but somehow he didn't entirely hate the feeling. The idea of kissing Potter struck to Draco, and when he'd once thought about it, he couldn't stop. He wanted Potter to press him against the wall, to force the evil out of him with his tongue. Suddenly he understood the desperation that Granger and Weasley had in their kiss. Harry Potter had just killed Voldemort, he was the Golden Boy of the wizarding world and Draco wanted to touch him. He would've rather taken a beating from Potter than have him leave; he would deserve it too.

"What do you want?" Draco asked breathlessly. Potter was standing too close now, they'd never been this close without being in the middle of a fist fight. Draco's lips were dry but he didn't dare to lick them since Potter could take it in the wrong way, and push him away. That felt like the worst scenario, Potter leaving.

"If I gave you your wand, would you hex me? If I gave you mine and yours and stood helplessly in front of you, what would you do to me?" There was definitely a manic glint in Potter's eyes now, one that was mirrored in Draco's own. Every nerve in Draco's body was telling him to lean closer and kiss Potter, it didn't matter if Potter would beat him for it. He couldn't even remember how many times he'd thought about it, kissing Potter and what his reaction would be. It had been five years since he'd last thought Potter would smile in response to the kiss, telling him he'd always loved him. After that, there'd been only blood and lust.

"Stop," he said, but he wasn't sure if he wanted Potter to stop talking, or moving towards him. Potter placed his hands on both sides of Draco's head and smirked. It wasn't just Potter's magic that was warming him now, he could feel his body heat radiating towards him. His skin was a like a magnet, trying to draw Draco closer. "Surprisingly many couples in the Great Hall were kissing," Draco whispered, lips close to Potter's face. "You'd think people wanted to sleep their pain away, but apparently they just want to have sex."

Draco wasn't sure if at that point he was even surprised that Potter didn't look disgusted but intoxicated. Potter leaned close to his ear, and his breath tickled Draco's ear, sending shivers down his spine. Everything about Potter was so warm. "It's just simple muggle biology, Malfoy," he whispered, and Draco leaned his head back, baring his neck, submitting. "People want to fuck after winning a war."

"You've got a filthy mouth, Saint Potter," Draco hissed between his teeth, trying not to moan. Potter's lips brushed the skin behind his ear and he could feel the sparks running through his body, all the way to his groin. He was getting embarrassingly hard.

"You're the only one who ever called me that," Potter said and started to nibble his earlobe. He could feel Potter grinning against his skin. Potter's hands slid from the wall to Draco's shoulders, and he massaged them a few times before grabbing Draco's waist and forcing him closer. "You're really stiff. Let's see if I can get you to loosen up a little."

Warmth spread on Draco's face, and he knew he was redder than the Gryffindor crest. Potter brushed his lips against his jaw gently, letting them hover there for a minute before pressing them with more force and sucking. Draco couldn't help bucking his hips toward Potter, searching for something to rub against. A strangled sound escaped his throat and Potter hummed against his skin. Potter mouthed his bare neck, letting his teeth scrape the skin.

Draco was taller than Potter by a few inches, but Potter was more muscular, and right then it felt ridiculous to think that he'd be bigger than Potter. He couldn't have escaped if he wanted to. He didn't want to.

Potter removed his mouth from Draco's neck, and Draco whined in protest before he noticed he was staring into the other boy's eyes again, lips just inches apart. His gaze immediately dropped to Potter's lips, desperately wanting to lean forward and taste his red lips. He looked delicious - his pupils were blown wide and lips slightly apart. Potter had long and dark eyelashes - he'd spent so much time staring at his pictures in the daily prophet so he'd known that already, but it was completely different seeing the real Potter so close. The Potter in pictures always eyed him suspiciously, frowned when Draco leaned closer. He'd felt filthy sneaking his hand under his robes and touching himself while staring at Potter's pictures. Every time he'd promised himself it was the last time, but it never was.

Real Potter didn't look judging, but he looked dangerous, like a beast. Draco couldn't look away from his eyes when Potter spoke. "Tell me, Malfoy," he said, sliding his big hands up and down Draco's sides. Draco felt drugged, drugged by Potter's touch. "Did you ever fantasize about me? Did you have dreams about me? I remember, back in fifth year I had a dream that I was walking around the castle past curfew, without my invisibility cloak. You caught me, you were wearing your prefect badge and you told me I needed a punishment. You took me to the room of requirement and fucked me against the wall after binding me up. Obviously, I woke up absolutely _horrified_."

Draco groaned, and Potter slid a knee between his legs, making his robes pile on his leg. Potter himself was wearing muggle jeans and an ugly shirt with a hood. Draco wanted him out of his clothes, but his head felt blurry and he wasn't sure what he should do next. He rode Potter's thigh, his dick aching from being rubbed against the rough layers of fabric. He could feel that Potter was hard too, and he felt huge. Draco's arms had been hanging uselessly against his sides, so he lifted them, and sunk them in Potter's messy hair. He massaged his skull, making him moan in pleasure, and removed the small sticks and leaves that he found. He leaned closer, wanting to finally taste Potter's lips, but Potter grabbed his chin and forced him to keep the inches between them. He wanted to growl.

"Did you?" Potter repeated. He stared so intensely into his eyes that Draco almost wondered if he was using legilimency. Draco wanted to laugh.

"Did I ever think about having sex with you?" Draco whispered. "Since the end of the third year. In various positions. Usually one of us tied up - who'd have guessed we have that in common. I thought about you bending me over the tables at the potions class. I thought about walking onto you wanking in the showers after a Quiddich match, body binding you and taking you roughly on the floor. I spent an entire week one summer trying to figure if we could fuck on a flying broom."

"Merlin," Potter said, looking mesmerized. Draco wanted to wipe the look off his face so he closed the distance between their lips before Potter could protest. Potter tasted like sweat, honey, and death. Draco knew that the taste of death and fright was lingering on his lips too, and he wanted to get it off from both of them, tried to lick Potter's mouth clean. Potter was biting and sucking on his lower lip, and he'd never felt anything so intimate, so healing. Even if Potter just needed someone to get off with after saving the world, he was _his_ now. For a glorious while, Potter would be his. It didn't matter what happened after, finally only the present mattered and he didn't need to escape it to a far corner of his mind.

Their kiss was like a fight. Who could get the most broken sounds out of the other, who could make the other harder, who could grip tighter? Potter's tongue was warm as it continuously slid over Draco's. They bit a little too hard and pulled each other's hair with more force than necessary, but it felt right for the two of them, the peak of their rivalry.

Draco had once seen Potter kissing the Weasley girl, but they hadn't noticed him. He'd frozen, unable to leave the sight. Potter had kissed her with hunger, it had been a little clumsy and they'd giggled into the kisses. Draco had wanted to be in her place so badly and hated himself for it. This, though, it was different. Potter wasn't giggling and stumbling now, his kisses were raw and controlling and Draco kissed back with the same force. He'd started to feel dizzy in his head from the lack of oxygen, but it just made the kiss better and thinking harder. He felt like he could go on forever, but then Potter pulled away. He was panting, splashes of color had risen on his tanned cheeks.

"Bed - we can't here -," Potter rambled and pulled Draco towards an empty painting which was hanging lopsided, revealing half of an entrance. They stumbled through it together, into a shockingly red room.

"Salazar, no wonder Gryffindors are so full of adrenaline all the time," Draco said, his voice sounding rougher than he'd meant. "Bulls get angry when they see red. This can't be healthy."

"Fuck you," Potter said half-heartedly while still guiding Draco.

"Yes please," he said. They'd arrived in a dormitory that looked a lot like the one they had in the Slytherin house, but the light was real and not filtered through water, and the beds were red. Draco wondered how they could sleep surrounded by all the red.

"This is mine," Potter said hoarsely, pushing Draco on a bed that looked like it had been slept in recently. Potter climbed on him, forcing him to lie down. He palmed Draco's erection, who bucked into the touch immediately. "I have Draco Malfoy laying under me just waiting to be touched. Who would've guessed?"

"Harry Potter," Draco whispered back, rolling the name on his tongue, saying it like a prayer. "The boy who lived. Twice, already."

Potter tightened his grip on Draco's dick, massaging his hand across Draco's groin and tights, and Draco was seeing stars. He tried to focus on Potter's lightning scar to stay grounded. It was redder than Draco had ever seen it before.

"Fuck," escaped from lips when Potter traced his fingers across his bulge. He could feel he was leaking precome already, his pants soaking wet, and he was just so fucking _close_. "I'm so - Potter stop." He couldn't help moaning the words which pretty much ruined the message behind the words. Potter was just using his fingertips now, almost tickling, and Draco was going to lose his mind. He kept squirming under Potter who was staring at him, looking fascinated and turned on. Draco wanted to touch Potter too, should’ve probably moved his hands from where they were wrapped around Potter's neck to the bulging front of his jeans, but his mind was clouded and his hips were burning.

"You look so good like this, Malfoy," Potter said, not taking his eyes off him for a second. "I wouldn't have taken you as this submissive. I like it."

"Potter _please_ ," he whimpered, violently thrusting his hips towards his hand. Potter was grinning and he could feel his orgasm building up in his stomach, his balls tightening and then-

"Fuck - Potter - _yes!"_ he moaned and started coming in hot spurts in his underwear. He distantly thought that he should've been embarrassed but after all, he was just a seventeen-year-old teenager who hadn't come in months since the atmosphere in his home hadn't been exactly sexually exciting for the last year. Potter massaged him through his orgasm, rutting against Draco's thigh. When Draco had stopped coming he collapsed against the bed and closed his eyes, feeling boneless.

"That was fast," Potter teased, still slowly grinding against Draco's leg. "I would let you sleep but I still have an erection that requires attention."

Draco lazily wrapped his arms around Potter and rolled them around so he was on top. He definitely wasn't going to fall asleep now - it was once in a lifetime chance to have sex with Harry Potter, and he was going to make the most of it. He got up on all fours on top of him, forcing Potter to lift his head up to reach his lips. Draco hummed in appreciation when Potter kissed him with heat. He sneaked his hand under his shirt and smirked when he felt Potter clench his abs. He had an impressive body for someone who'd been underfed and hiding from the Dark Lord for the past year. He reached up to pinch Potter's nipples, which had Potter whimpering into his mouth.

"I'm gonna suck you off, Potter," he announced, loading all his confidence into the words. He earned a low groan in response which was enough for him grab the hem of Potter's hooded shirt and yank it over his head. He was wearing a t-shirt that had probably been white a long time ago under it, and Draco got rid of it too without Potter protesting, which was a good sign.

He opened the button of Potter's jeans and zipped them open, but only pulled them halfway down, letting them keep his legs bound. He rescued their wands from Potter's back pocket and for a moment he looked alerted, but when Draco just placed them on the bedside table he relaxed.

"Scared, Potter?" he asked before he leaned closer to Potter's crotch and mouthed the line of his cock. Potter had probably been planning some witty comeback, but now he just moaned. He looked up at Potter and smirked, before pulling his pants down and releasing his cock.

He'd already felt through Potter's briefs that he was big, but it was different actually seeing him. He was around eight inches and thick, which made Draco's mouth water and dick twitch in interest. One advantage of being a wizard was that he could transfigure innocent household objects into something dick shaped, and practice deep throating or fuck himself. He'd never dared to try anything that big, though one time when he was drunk and horny in the sixth year had been pretty close.

"You wish," Potter answered, too late and sounding too out of it. "Alright there, Malfoy?"

"Perfectly," Draco said, and wrapped his lips around the tip of Potter's cock and sucking, gently at first but hardening it as Potter tried to buck deeper into his mouth. It was different than sucking a dildo made of a vase, it tasted salty it was warm and pulsing and moving without his consent. Potter tried to kick his feet, maybe wanting to wrap them over Draco's shoulders but realized they were bound and let a litany of curse words escape his lips, though it didn't sound like he was feeling entirely unpleasant. Potter gripped Draco's hair instead, slowly forcing him down, his moans getting harder when he realized he didn't have a gag reflex. Draco shuddered a little trying to relax the muscles of his throat, and closed his eyes since they had teared up and he didn't want Potter to see, or to know that this was his first time and he was ready to lose his virginity in a one night stand with the savior of the wizarding world.

He pulled back, letting his tongue circle the tip which drove Potter mad judging by the ruthless movements of his hips. He slid back down stealing a glance of Potter and finding him staring down at him, mouth agape and eyes hungry. He must've been close from the sounds he was making so Draco sucked harder, bobbing his head up and down and feeling his own cock harden in response to Potter's moans.

"Draco, I'm gonna-" he said, and Draco sucked him down, heart beating faster because Potter had used his first name. Potter came down his throat and Draco swallowed it down, for a minute feeling like he was going to choke, but not letting it show.

When Potter had finished Draco pulled off, crawling up to lay on top of Potter. He was already half hard again, and he hoped Potter wasn't done with him yet. He would hate himself for the rest of his life if the only time he had Potter touching him he'd had come in his pants.

Draco sucked the spot where Potter's jaw met his neck and earned a small whine in return. Draco was determined to get Potter hard again, so he kept kissing and sucking his neck until Potter came out of his haze and started fingering the collar of Draco's robes.

"Aren't you eager," Potter said, and Draco blushed but kept on kissing his neck, moving down to his collarbones and sucking the skin there, wanting to leave marks. He wanted Potter's friends to ask him who it had been and having him stutter something about the fight in response, wanted to bite so hard he'd leave scars and when Potter would have kids with the Weaslette they'd ask him what kind of animal it had been. He wanted to ruin Potter from anyone else and mark him for the rest of his life.

Potter's hands weren't exploring his neck anymore, he was yanking Draco's robes, clearly wanting them off. Draco secretly smirked against Potter's skin before pulling back and helping Potter with his robes. Potter took the chance to get completely rid of his jeans, pants, shoes and socks, and then laid under Draco completely naked, and the amount of bare skin distracted Draco from pulling off his undershirt. This time Potter clearly clenched his abs in purpose, certainly wanting Draco to fucking lose it. He lifted his eyes to Potter's face, and he was wearing a predatory smile.

"I love you like this," he said, and Draco had to tell his brain not to cling on the first three words. Potter clearly meant that it boosted his ego when people looked at him like he was a god and that he liked seeing Draco vulnerable. Not that any sort of feelings was involved, which Draco didn't want either way. All he felt for Potter was lust and jealousy and a completely healthy amount of worship. Potter reached for Draco's shirt and pulled it off, leaving his hands on Draco's back. "I want to kiss you again. Come here Malfoy."

Draco went with Potter's hands that guided him towards Potter's mouth, just as eager as Potter claimed him to be. When their lips met again they didn't taste like death anymore, but each other. Draco moaned into the kiss and Potter cupped his ass with both hands, massaging him through the thin fabric of his silky underpants.

"You're ridiculously fancy you know that," Potter said as he nibbled on Draco's lower lip. "Also your clothes look like they're from the 18th century. I remember thinking you looked like a priest back in the fourth year at the Yule Ball."

"What's a priest?" Draco asked breathlessly, hoping it wouldn't be anything terribly embarrassing.

"Someone holy," Potter said and pushed one hand into Draco's pants that were already gross from the time he came into them. "I want to commit sins with you."

"I'm all yours," Draco said without thinking. Potter's fingers brushed against his hole and he felt as if a spell had hit him and ran through his body. Potter pushed the tip of his index finger inside and Draco gasped, but since he didn't protest Potter reached for his wand with his other arm, and cast a charm on his fingers so they were slippery with lube, and then put his wand back.

"All mine," Potter repeated, and slowly pushed one finger inside Draco. He couldn't help but clench around Potter's finger, it felt entirely different when it was someone else doing this to him. Potter's finger was warm and he didn't need to worry about his wrist cramping like while he was fingering himself. Every switch of angle, every movement sent sparks flying through Draco's body and he could do nothing else than keep kissing Potter slowly, body draped over Potter's and even though he was on top it was without a doubt that Potter was the one in control.

Potter pulled down his pants and then they were both naked, cocks brushing and rubbing against each other. Suddenly Potter removed his finger from Draco's hole, spun them around and pinned Draco to the bed by his wrists.

"Don't move," Potter commanded, and Draco obeyed. He transfigured his shirt into a silky robe, grabbed Draco's wrists again and tied his hands to the bedboard.

"Potter-" Draco moaned, but Potter shushed him.

"Call me Harry," he said, his other hand holding Draco's jaw and another sliding between them, grabbing their dicks and wanking them slowly with his slippery hand, and Draco could feel both of them growing into full hardness.

"Harry," Draco said quietly, looking at Potter's eyes. Potter nodded, and moved his hand to Draco's balls, massaging them a few times before sliding two fingers into Draco's ass. He tapped Draco's inner thighs and guided his legs around his waist. Draco closed his eyes from the pleasure when Potter's fingertips pressed the bundle of nerves inside him that he always found so hard to reach himself. He tugged his hands weakly against the bounds, but they didn't give up which was a relief. Potter was responsible now, he could let go and enjoy and Potter would do all the work. For a moment he entertained the idea that some of Potter's friends would walk in on them, but when Potter hit the spot again he forgot the thought.

Potter removed his fingers again, but this time they were replaced by the slippery head of his dick. He thrust a few times against it, letting his cock slide over his waiting hole.

 _"Please_ Potter - Harry," Draco moaned in desperation, trying to pull Potter closer with his legs.

"Tell me what you want," Potter said, and he definitely looked smug now. Draco wanted to force him inside him, but his hands were tied and he couldn't do anything else than arch against Potter.

"I want you to fuck me," Draco said. "Hard. Fast. Now."

Harry grinned at him before adjusting his head against Draco's entrance, and slowly pushing in. Even Potter's dick felt like fire, but a good, healing sort instead of destroying. He pushed inside in small thrusts when he finally sank all the way in and their hips met.

Draco felt like he'd already moved to some alternate universe because there was no way Harry Potter was inside him after all the history they had together. Yet he could feel him, smell him and see him, and if he leaned a little closer, taste him.

Potter pulled almost all the way out, he leaned his palm against the wall for stability, and then slammed in. Draco saw stars, he wasn't sure what he said but it made Potter do it again so he guessed it'd been something good.

"Do I feel good?" he couldn't help asking. He knew Potter was enjoying what he was doing, but he wanted to know if he liked it because his dick was getting action or because it was Draco. He knew it was stupid to wish for the latter, but somehow the third year's dream of Potter confessing having loved him all along hadn't disappeared when he'd thought it did.

"You feel fucking amazing Draco," Potter said. He shifted the position of Draco's right leg, and with the next thrust, he hit Draco's prostate again. As much as he wanted to keep looking at Potter, he had to close his eyes or it would become too much. He arched his back, moaned and moved with Potter. There was nothing but the two of them moving together until the end of the time, and Draco couldn't help but let a little smile creep on his lips.

"You look good," Potter said, sounding choked. He took Draco's cock in his hand again and wanked him fast and sloppy as the rhythm of his thrusts began to falter. He dropped his hand from the wall and cupped Draco's face and kissed him again. Draco felt every muscle in his body clench, his hips desperately pushing against Potter's dick and hand.

"Harry Potter," Draco said as he felt the orgasm building towards his dick. "Fuck, I'm yours."

"I'm yours too, Draco Malfoy," Potter said, and Draco came in Potter's hand. He wanked him through his orgasm, and when he clenched his walls around Potter he came too, feeling hot inside Draco. It didn't feel dirty or gross, he wanted to be filled with Harry Potter in every possible way.

When they'd both recovered from the aftershocks Potter slid out of him, and Draco's ass clenched around air, missing the weight of his cock. Draco wrapped his arms around Potter who did the same, and then they laid in silence, limbs tangled. Draco wasn't sure if he'd be able to let go anymore. Potter felt like the only stable thing in the world, even though Draco knew Potter wasn't stable and he shouldn't put his faith in him.

They'd rolled so Potter was under him again, and he'd laid his head on Potter's chest and was listening to his heart beat. It was steady, a little quicker than usual but the sound calmed him down. He knew he should leave before he started reading too much into things, or Potter telling him to leave, but he couldn't unwrap his arms around the other man.

"You're beautiful," Potter whispered in his ear, and then caught his earlobe in his mouth and sucked lazily. "I've always thought you were sort of unattainably beautiful, like some poisonous flower, but you look even more beautiful when you're coming because of me."

"Don't say things you don't mean," Draco whispered back.

"But I mean it," Potter said. "Every word."

"Then don't say it like it makes a change," Draco said, desperately wanting his blissful moment of forgetting to continue, but it seemed to be already too late. "I'm going to Azkaban during the next fucking days. I was a death eater, people are not going to let that go. For you, life will continue to get better from this moment, but this could be my last moment of happiness. Don't you dare to speak to me like everything's fine."

"You'd choose to spend your last moments free with me?" Potter asked, and the fucking git dared to sound surprised. As if he hadn't realized he'd fucked a wanted man.

"Honestly Potter, did you ever listen to the things I was saying?" Draco asked. He tried to concentrate on Potter's heartbeat, but it was getting harder every minute.

"It was my first time," Potter said, apparently not being able to think up anything better to say. Draco stiffened up and lifted his head from Potter's chest to look at his eyes.

"But you felt - I thought - you and Weasley?" Draco asked, staring into Potter's eyes and trying to figure if he was lying for some reason.

"No," Potter said. Draco fell quiet for a moment, and studied Potter's face.

"It was my first time too," he said finally.

"Really? Even the blowjob?" Potter sounded so genuinely surprised that it made Draco feel smug. Maybe all the practicing had been worth it after all.

"That too," Draco said, but then hesitated. "I thought you hated me.”

"I stopped hating you after what happened at the Astronomy Tower," Potter said, slowly drawing circles on Draco's back with his fingertips. His magic didn't feel bursting and out of control anymore, it just felt calming and relaxing. Draco wanted to close his eyes and fall asleep.

"So Rita Skeeter was right about something," Draco pointed out. "You actually were there."

"Yes."

Draco sighed, and pressed his eyes closed for a moment before reopening them. "I'm still going to Azkaban even though Harry Potter lost his virginity to me," he said, then continued, trying to lighten the mood but failing miserably when his voice cracked. "Quite sure that's a good enough reason to be sent there itself."

Potter laughed sleepily. "I'm gonna speak at your trials. You saved me, and that way also the whole wizarding world. They can't lock you up."

"And then?"

"I don’t know," Potter said. He looked pained, and Draco knew he shouldn't pressure him to answer. Potter had already made a huge promise - if he intended to keep it. Of course he could just be gone in the morning, and Draco would never see him again. He wasn't sure if he'd even preferred it - at least that way he'd be able to pretend none of it ever happened. His father was going to Azkaban anyway, even if Potter could speak Draco and Narcissa out of it. There were no good options. "The music's stopped. I really need to sleep."

"Yeah," Draco answered and curled back against Potter. They changed the position a few times, and even though Draco had wanted to be the little spoon, to feel someone soothingly against his back, he wrapped himself against Potter thinking that he'd probably been even more alone than Draco had. He wasn't sure what would happen in the morning, but for now, he buried his face in Potter's mess of hair and pressed him against his chest. They fell asleep like that, pretending tomorrow didn't exist.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos and comments and tell me what you thought!


End file.
